Intimate Secrets
by CynysterLove
Summary: After a drunken mistake, pain and sorrow are felt and relationships grow strained. Ashley longs to have the father of his child by his side through it all, but because of stupid choices, they grow apart. Will they ever be able to overcome the pain they've caused one another, if only for the sake of their child? Or will they never know another day of happiness as long as they live?
1. Prologue

In the midst of pain the likes of which he'd never felt, Ashley Purdy couldn't help but reflect on the past year of his life. Most would say he was luckier than anyone currently walking this planet, but he considered himself to be one of the unluckiest people alive. He'd fallen in love with someone he couldn't have, resulting in his writing the song _Love Isn't Always Fair_ by the band he was the bassist and backing vocalist of, Black Veil Brides. He'd subsequently made an idiotic, drunken mistake that led to his current torture, and if it weren't for someone who depended on him, he'd have ended his life already.

He had one person that depended completely on him, which was what made him consider leaving the band altogether. Not just to hide his intimate secrets, but so that he could devote himself to that one person, the one who'd already stolen his heart more than the love he couldn't have. That one person was…his unborn daughter, the very same one he was currently in labor with.

Sammi Doll and all but their frontman knew that he'd spent the last nine months carrying another life beneath his heart, and that was just how he wanted it. He didn't want to tell her…other father, if you will, that she existed because he was pretty sure the man wouldn't react well. He was sure that the guy was as straight as a stripper pole, and that the night he'd conceived was exactly like it was for him: a drunken mistake. The only difference was that he was pretty sure the love he couldn't have didn't even remember said mistake, while he did.

"Oh, my Godsmack!" he screamed, holding a pillow over his face that he clutched so tightly his knuckles turned white. "This hurts so fucking much!"

"I warned you that a natural birth was going to hurt, Ashley," his midwife, Erica, told him. "We could always try a hot bath to ease your pain, though."

"Anything to help with this God-forsaken torture!" Ash cried at the top of his lungs.

"All right. I'll get the bath started. You let me know when the contraction ends," she told him.

Nodding as best he could, he continued reflecting upon the past year. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd made the right decision when deciding to keep his daughter a secret from his lover. He knew what it was like to grow up without both his parents, although they'd died due to circumstances they couldn't control, and he honestly didn't want the baby to go through that. However, not only was he pretty sure the guy was as straight as a stripper pole, he was already in a steady relationship, as far as he knew. Even if he couldn't have the love of his life, he didn't want the man to be with him and in an unhappy relationship just for the baby's sake. However, he had no idea just how much the man loved him, and that he was currently on his way over to check on him.


	2. One

One

_One year previously…_

Not unlike many nights after a show since starting to tour to support Black Veil Brides' debut album, _We Stitch These Wounds,_ a little over a year ago, Ashley Purdy headed off the bus to go find a local bar. They were in Glasgow, England, supporting the Murderdolls alongside The Defiled on the _God Save the Scream_ Tour. The next night, they'd be playing in Manchester, which was fine by him, so long as he didn't have to see his band's frontman, Andy, for extended periods of time.

Despite his man-whore reputation, earned by years of sleeping with big-breasted bimbos with about as much sense as a rock lying on the ground, he'd fallen in love with Andy, like the idiot he was. Like he professed to be in interviews, be them solo or group, he was pretty sure the young frontman was as straight as a stripper pole. Even if he didn't have his reputation to uphold, he doubted he'd ever get a serious chance with the man he loved, if only for that reason alone. Just that thought made him release a soft, depressed sigh, and he was glad that none of his bandmates had come with him tonight.

He wanted to be alone, to figure out why he'd fallen for the frontman, one of his best friends, in the first place…and to drown his sorrows. The drunker he got, the less of tonight he'd remember, and therefore if he saw Andy with a woman, he likely wouldn't remember it the next morning. Granted, he'd pay royally when he was flushing his guts down the toilet and nursing a hangover from Hell, but right now, he didn't care.

"Evenin'," the bartender said. It was easy to hear him since the bar was practically dead, considering that it was a Thursday night. "What can I getcha?"

"A bottle of Jack," Ash requested somberly.

"Lookin' to drown yer sorrows, mate?" he asked as he turned to the shelf behind him.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm looking to do," he answered, nodding as he paid for the liquor.

"Any particular reason why? Not many people come in here, requesting an entire bottle fer 'emselves," he was informed.

"Like an idiot, I fell in love with someone I can't have," he sighed, taking a seat as he cracked open the bottle.

"Well, damn. That really does suck." The bartender gave him an expression of pity. "I feel sorry fer ya."

"Like you wouldn't believe," he grumbled, relishing the burning of the amber liquid as it travelled down his throat and into his belly.

"Actually, I would." The man sighed sadly as he cleaned a few glasses sitting in front of him. "Ya see, I'm as queer as a three-pound note. The man I love doesn't love me back. Far as I know, he's as straight as a stripper pole, and I have no chance wi' him."

"Jeez, we certainly make one helluva pair," Ash chuckled wryly. "That's exactly my case, too."

"My only problem is that I never get to see the man I love, so it's not like I can tell him."

"I wish I were that lucky. The guy I love is in the same band as me, so when we're on tour like we are now, I have to see him every day."

"My advice, mate…tell him while you've got the chance. Ya never know when life will be cut short, fer either of ya."

Curious, but not wanting to intrude on his personal life, he cocked a brow, but said nothing.

"The reason I never get to see the man I love is because he's dead, mate." The bartender sighed again. "He was an idiot and got sloshed at the bar I used to work fer. I tried getting him to let me drive him home, but he refused. The next morning, I heard on the telly that he'd gotten 'imself killed in a drunken collision that he caused, and I still haven't forgiven myself fer not fighting against him harder."

"I'm so sorry to hear that," Ash said honestly. "You're right, but I'm just too scared. This guy is my best friend, almost like the baby brother I never had. I'm finally living my dream, and I don't want him to take that away from me since the band is his, if I were to scare him with my admission."

"Sometimes ya have to take a chance in life. If I'd known what would happen to my love that night three years ago, I'd have told him how much I loved him, just so he'd know before he left this plane."

"I won't completely disregard what you've told me, but I can't guarantee that I'll do it."

"Fair enough. You have a good evenin', 'n' try not to get too sloshed, ya hear?"

"I will. And you have a good evening yourself."

With a small, almost unnoticeable wave, Ash headed out the door of the bar with his bottle of Jack in hand, ready to go find a place to hide from the world. It felt good talking to someone who understood exactly where he was coming from, someone who didn't know him or Andy from Adam's housecat, and wouldn't be able to go back and tell the younger man later. Still, he sighed sadly as he wandered around aimlessly, soon finding a park within sight of the bus.

He knew the guys wouldn't bother looking for him until at least dawn's first light, knowing that when he went off by himself like that, he wanted to be alone. He parked his ass on the ground beneath a tree, looking up at the stars shining overhead as he downed his Jack, thinking about whether he should just come clean or keep his dirty laundry hidden, so to speak. He'd meant what he'd told the bartender about not wanting to ruin his friendship with Andy by admitting that he loved him, and not like a brother, and possibly having his dream job taken from him because the young man hated him for being that way.

Hours passed, and when he looked down at his phone through blurry eyes, he realized that it would be four AM, according to the time zone he was currently in. That, and he had a missed call and voice mail from Jinxx, the band's multi-instrumentalist, and the only one to ever act even remotely responsible. Upon listening to the voice mail, he found out that they were leaving a couple hours earlier than expected.

As quickly as he could, Ash hauled himself to his feet, his unfinished bottle in his hand, and stumbled back to the bus. Once there, he didn't feel like fighting to find his keys and hoped that someone was up…or that they wouldn't be too pissed when they answered the door. He beat on it a couple times with his fist, grumbling about staying out so late, even though it'd been his choice, since it was a bit chilly out. Moments later, the door swung open to reveal Jinxx himself, and for that he was grateful. He didn't want to run into Andy in his drunken state, as there was no telling what he'd do or say, and he couldn't take that risk. Realizing he was skunk-drunk, Jinxx took him to the bathroom and settled him in front of the toilet.

"Next time you get this schnockered, don't stay out quite so late, okay?" he said softly.

"I'll try," the bassist slurred drunkenly.

"You stay here, curl up on the floor to sleep, if you have to," his friend said, brushing his hair up into a loose ponytail. "You're gonna need it sooner or later."

Nodding, he watched him go back into the bunk room and crawl into his bunk, where he'd undoubtedly been before he pounded on the door.

The next morning, Ash awoke in the bathroom floor in front of the toilet, and boy was he glad he did. He barely remembered going out the previous night, seeking to drown his sorrows, or coming back to the bus. He didn't even remember what'd brought him back, just that his friend and bandmate, Jinxx, had been the one to let him on board and make sure he was settled as well as he could before going back to bed himself. Everything else was a total blur, and oddly enough, that was exactly how he wanted it.

He immediately got up on his knees and knelt before the toilet he'd previously been laying in front of, his stomach roiling violently from the amount of alcohol he'd consumed the night before. The moment he got the lid and seat up, he started heaving with equal violence, his eyes smarting and ribs hurting from the force. Part of it even shot out his nose, and he felt the burn from both the liquor and the acid.

Shortly thereafter, when the dry heaves stopped after he'd regurgitated everything in his stomach, Ash fell back against the wall across from the toilet. Too weak to move for a moment, he lifted his leg and used his foot to close the lid with a loud _bang!_ and flush the mess down the drain. His breathing was a bit too rapid and shallow for his liking, and he was still seeing a few stars from the force of his vomiting. Hell, he was lucky he hadn't passed out in the middle of one of his wretches again, something that'd happened numerous times when he reached that level of intoxication.

_KNOCK KNOCK!_ "You okay in there?" The voice on the other side of the bathroom door belonged to none other than Andy.

"I'm fine," he managed weakly.

"No, you're not," the frontman said, opening the door and kneeling down. "It sounded like you just left your guts in the toilet."

"I feel like it," Ash said, chuckling wryly. "Course, that happens when one gets too drunk."

Something that he couldn't identify flashed in the younger man's icy-blue eyes, but it was gone so fast that he wondered if he'd imagined it. "Ash, you've gotta quit drinking like this. You're gonna kill yourself one of these days."

"My body, my life, my choice," he snapped testily. "The concern is appreciated, but in the end, I don't care."

Taken aback by his friend's harsh words, Andy rocked back on his heels and stared at him, his mouth agape. After a moment, he frowned and rose to his feet, turning to leave the bathroom and the older man to his misery, since that was clearly what he wanted. With a sigh, the bassist rose to his own feet, his knees shaking slightly, and washed his face of the previous night's makeup and brushed his hair before heading to the living area.

He had no idea why his best friend would be as upset as he was over his drinking and the way he'd reacted, but it didn't really matter. If he knew that he was in love with him and trying to drown that love in alcohol, he'd probably run in the opposite direction screaming like a girl. That thought made him chuckle softly since, considering the depth of the frontman's voice, that would be a damn near impossible feat, even if he screamed in falsetto. Ash shook his head as he made himself a cup of coffee to help with the hangover he was nursing, then took a seat on one of the couches.

It wasn't long before the rest of the band started coming out of the bunk room one-by-one, CC being the last since he was a lazy ass. The hyper drummer was anything but at the moment, and for that, they were all thankful. A person could only take so much of a hyper CC before they wanted to bash his head in with something, but at the end of the day, they still loved him. If he weren't hyper the majority of the time, he wouldn't be the CC they knew and loved.

As conversations were struck up amongst themselves about what was going on that day and when, Ash was able to forget his feelings, if only for a short time. The second Andy got a phone call and had to step off the bus, which was now stopped in Manchester, because it was his girlfriend, Juliet, he had to excuse himself, as well. He went back to the bunk room and got himself dressed for the day, sans makeup and war paint, then stole a pack of the frontman's cigarettes. He didn't normally smoke, but drastic times called for drastic measures, and he'd consider this a drastic time. His love for the young man was getting to be almost too much to handle, and he needed a bit of stress relief before he exploded.


	3. Two

Two

Standing outside the bus, smoking his third cancer stick of the morning as he talked to the woman he professed to love, Andy couldn't get his mind off his best friend. He acted like he was paying attention to the conversation he was supposedly having with Juliet, when in reality he was letting an alter ego of sorts do the talking while his true personality hid from the world.

He was worried sick about Ashley because, although he was a heavy drinker when they met a few years ago, his drinking seemed to be getting increasingly worse the past year or so. It was almost as if the bassist was trying to push his luck and see how much it took to give himself alcohol poisoning, then die from it. He sighed mentally as he wondered what on Earth would cause the upbeat and carefree man to suddenly act depressed and want to drink till dawn's light all the time. Surely it was just something stupid that caused him to be that way, like his alcohol tolerance being higher than what it used to be.

By the time he finally managed to end the phone call he could care less about, his thoughts had turned to the problem that made him wish he were legal to drink himself. Like an idiot, he'd fallen in love with Ashley, even though it was pretty obvious that his friend was as straight as a stripper pole. He'd thought he was, too, at one point, but now he knew he didn't bat that way and probably never had. If anything, he'd probably fooled himself into thinking he did to hide the truth from everybody, even himself.

Lost in his own little world, Andy didn't even realize that he stood outside the bus smoking another four cigarettes until Jinxx, the only one who knew the truth about him, stepped outside. An expression of concern was etched into his face, and he reached up and yanked the cancer stick from between his lips, dropped it on the ground, and stomped it out with the toe of his boot. Giving him a nasty look, he merely pulled out and lit another one, not caring if the smoke got blown into his face since he'd pissed him off. Sighing, Jinxx leaned back against the bus beside him and crossed his arms over his chest, giving him a look that a mother would give her lying child when she wanted the truth.

"Thinking about Ashley again?" he asked quietly.

"How can I not?" he countered, exhaling a drag as he spoke. "I love him with every fiber of my being, and even though he doesn't love me like that, it hurts to see him practically killing himself."

"I know it does. I may not love him like a lover would, but it hurts me just as much to see him in such pain that he tries to drown his sorrows every night," Jinxx agreed, sighing sadly.

"I wish I could tell him the truth." Andy took another drag before speaking again. "But even if I weren't in a relationship with Juliet, I'm pretty sure he doesn't like me like that, and probably never will."

"Honestly, sometimes I wonder about that," the multi-instrumentalist said.

Curious, he cocked his brow at him, his cancer stick dangling from his lips.

"There are times when I'll notice something shining in his eyes when your name is mentioned, but it's gone so quick I ask myself if I imagined it," he admitted.

"You think that maybe he loves me, too, but is too scared to admit it?" he asked.

"Well, think about it, Andy. You're in a relationship and supposedly straight; he's living his dream at last." Jinxx paused thoughtfully. "He probably doesn't wanna scare you, or have you hate him and kick him out of the band for having such feelings."

"I could never hate him, and even if I did, I'd never take his dreams away from him just for loving me!"

"Well, Ashley doesn't know that. If he did, he'd likely have come clean by now."

"I guess that's true enough."

"Hell, you know I like playing Devil's advocate; that's why I'm so good at seeing situations from multiple points of view," he chuckled.

"And why you're so Devilishly good at getting the rest of us to, as well," Andy agreed.

"Well, we need to start getting ready for the show tonight. You want me to search for Ashley so he doesn't run away again?" he asked.

"Works for me. Just bring him back safe, Jinxx," he answered.

Nodding, the multi-instrumentalist started in the opposite direction of where the bus was parked to begin his search for their missing bassist. The young frontman headed back onto aforementioned bus with a sigh so, like CC and their lead guitarist, Jake, he could start getting ready. They all took forever, Ashley taking the longest since he prided himself on looking perfect, so they had to start getting ready earlier than most would even dream they did.

Sighing as he started pulling on his leather pants that had a white arrow he called his "Penis GPS" painted on one leg, Andy couldn't help but continue to wonder what'd gotten into his best friend. Jake and CC noticed how quiet he was while getting ready, but knew he often got like that when thinking. They just chose to leave him to his thoughts, which was probably their smartest decision.

By the time the three of them were done getting ready, Jinxx had returned with their bassist in tow. He looked as somber as Andy felt, but none of them chose to remark upon it. That'd likely get them a snarky response like he'd gotten this morning when he told him he really should stop drinking like he was, which would ruin the mood for their show. They knew each other's limits and what would happen if pushed until the person broke, so they chose to leave the sleeping dogs lying, so to speak. None of them wanted to lie down and get back up with figurative fleas, or they probably would've asked what was wrong. Besides, from the knowing look on Jinxx's face, he knew what was bothering Ashley, and that it would come out in due time.

Once the bassist was ready to go an hour later, they all headed to the stage, where the roadies had already set up their equipment. CC's kit was already set up and the drummer had his sticks in his back pocket, as always, Jake's and Jinxx's guitars were on stands by the side of the stage, and Ashley's bass was in the hands of his tech as he made sure it was tuned. Granted, the bassist would just fix any mistakes that were made once it was put in his hands, but at least the guy tried. Andy was handed his mic right before they were due to go on, and soon enough, he was getting the rush he always got when performing.

After the show, they had a meet-and-greet that Ashley pled a headache to get out of, but no one thought much of the bassist's absence. The fans who wanted to meet him specifically were disappointed to find out that he wasn't there, but were concerned when they found out he had a headache bad enough to skip the meet-and-greet. They all told the guys to tell him they hoped he felt better soon, something the remaining quartet agreed to do with smiles on their faces, before moving on.

When it was time to head back to the bus, Andy couldn't help but wonder if the man he loved really did have a headache, or if he'd just said he did so he could go out and get drunk again. Upon entering the bus, he saw that Ashley's personal effects were still on the kitchen counter where he'd left them earlier that day, and he never went anywhere without them.

Holding his breath in the hopes that he really was on the bus, the frontman made his way back to the bunk room to check on him as the rest of the guys flopped down in the living area. They all knew better than to make too much noise on the nights that Ashley claimed to have a headache, knowing that he was meaner than a diamond-back when he had one. It was never a good idea to provoke him when he had a headache, as they were often migraines, and having had a few himself in the past, Andy knew just how painful they were. In fact, he'd been the one to lay down the rule about little-to-no noise when a headache was pled.

Once in the bunk room, he quietly made his way over to the bassist's bunk and gently pulled the closed curtain back enough to peek inside. Lying there on his left side so that he faced the aisle, looking like an angel, Ashley was sound asleep. Heaving a soft sigh of relief, the younger man bent down enough to reach him, brushed his hair back, and gently placed his lips on his forehead. He quietly wished him a good night's sleep and sweet dreams before pulling the curtain back to its previous position, then going to let the guys know he was, indeed, on the bus. They, too, heaved sighs of relief, knowing how the bassist could be at times, and he headed back to the bathroom to take off his makeup and war paint before calling it a night himself.


End file.
